Doctor Strange & Clea
by MissScaryKitty
Summary: Doctor Strange is the new guardian of the New York Sanctum and soon to become the Sorcerer Supreme. However, things get complicated when Master Clea bursts into his life. She's carrying a secret that may very well lead to the destruction of reality as we know it. The only problem is, Stephen doesn't want to let her go. (Stephen Strange/Clea)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

Stephen sat quietly in the inner sanctum of Kamar-Taj, a book from the Ancient One's private collection open in his hands. There was a spell he wanted to research before returning to the New York Sanctum, which had been his home fore several months since the battle in Hong Kong.

He was finally settling into his new position as the guardian of the New York Sanctum. Everything happened so quickly after defeating Dormammu, he barely had time to catch his breath. On top of it all, since Mordo left, it was quickly becoming clear to everyone that Stephen would have to fill the role of the Sorcerer Supreme. It was a tall order, but with Stephen finding his new calling, he was more than willing to step up to the challenge. Sometimes the remaining strains of his arrogance played in his favor.

The former surgeon was in the middle of memorizing an incantation when, suddenly, a young woman burst into the room, causing him to snap the book closed. She was pretty, in Stephen's opinion, at least; light skinned, thin, with silver-blonde hair. However, she was dressed quite odd like she'd stumbled out of a music festival. Her pink boots and electric purple crochet mini dress clashed violently with the tranquil surroundings of Kamar-Taj. The unexpected sight almost gave Strange an instant headache.

"Hello, I've never seen you before." Said the woman, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You've got masters robes and a relic too... I really have been gone a long time."

"Um, hello, I am Doctor Stephen Strange," he introduced himself, more than a little confused.

"Clea" she replied.

"Just Clea?" He said, having a bit of deja vu from when he was first introduced to Wong. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, _Doctor Strange_ ," she said leaning heavily into his ostentatious title.

"Touché. How can I help you, Clea?" He asked.

Before she could answer, Wong walked into the room then with a cup of tea in his hands. When Clea saw him, her eyes immediately lit up. Wong, however, froze at the sight of her: the piping hot tea in his cup almost sloshed onto his hand.

"Hey Wong! Is my room still open?" She asked, hiking the strap of her sequined duffle bag up higher on her shoulder. That's when Stephen noticed the sling ring she wore. It blended in with her other jewelry, but there was no mistaking what it was.

Wong looked from her to Strange back to her again with some urgency. "Of course, Master Clea. But-"

"Oh, good," she exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm too tired to walk in on another naked stranger again. I've already had too much excitement for one week."

"I'm sure, Master Clea. But I need to talk to you about something."

"I'm so exhausted, Wong," she sighed, giving him a friendly one-armed hug before striding past him. "Tell me later okay? I need to see Kaecilius first and then get some sleep. You'll tell the Sorcerer Supreme I'm here right?"

"Clea!" He snapped. She jumped and he grew silent, immediately regretting raising his voice to her. "That's what I must talk to you about."

Stephen furrowed his brow in concern as he placed the book of spells down on a nearby desk. He wondered how this woman could be a master of the mystic arts and still be so out of the loop as to what transpired the last several months.

"Master Clea, a lot has happened since you left," Wong began.

"What do you mean, Wong?" Asked Clea, her voice filling with trepidation.

The librarian pressed his lips into a thin line, his sad gaze fixed on the floor as he tried to find the words to tell her what happened. Stephen felt a stab of sympathy for how difficult this was for Wong and decided to step in so his friend wouldn't have to struggle.

"The Ancient One is dead," Stephen told her, very matter-of-fact. "She was murdered by Kaecilius who tried to summon Dormammu."

Clea visibly stiffened in shock, her breath caught in her throat for only a moment as she held fast to her composure.

"And where is Kaecilius?" She all but whispered.

"He is dead too." Stephen told her.

Clea grabbed her wrist then, squeezing mandala chain tattoo tightly though her long sleeve as the rust red bond tightened in rebellion beneath her skin; hurting her.

"That's not possible," she said, dead certain of her assertion. Stephen could see the fear and pain mounting within her. "Excuse me."

The two sorcerers watched as Clea quickly turned and fled the room. Once she was out of sight, Stephen immediately looked to Wong, wondering if they should go after her.

Wong shook his head, knowing what Stephen was going to ask. "It's best to let her go."

"I should have handled that more delicately." Stephen admitted.

"You think?" Said Wong, deadpanning. "You're a doctor, aren't you used to delivering bad news?"

"No. I never lost a patient," Stephen tried to explain.

Wong merely rolled his eyes. "Of course."

"Who is she?" Stephen asked, feeling very much out of the loop.

"She is Clea, the daughter of the Sorcerer Supreme." Wong informed him.

Stephen did a double-take at the stern librarian.

"Wait, are you serious?" He asked, shocked by what he just told him. He felt like a complete idiot now.

"Of course I am serious!" Wong snapped. "Why would I lie?"

"Sorry. I thought maybe when the Ancient One became the Sorcerer Supreme, she might have taken a vow of chastity." Said Stephen.

"No. Why would she? Did you?" Wong asked pointedly.

Strange's eyes widened at the implication. "No, no, I just... It didn't seem like her to have… offspring."

Wong shook his head. "The Sorcerer Supreme lived a very mysterious life."

"So I keep being reminded," Stephen muttered.

"Clea is the last of the Ancient One's living descendants," Wong explained. "She grew up here in Kamar-Taj and has witnessed the rise of many masters including Mordo, myself, and Kaecilius. With the Ancient One busy protecting reality, we became her family. It was thought she would take up the mantel of the Sorcerer Supreme, but she chose a different path. Honestly, I'm surprised she came back at all."

"She seems a bit..." Stephen paused, trying to find the polite words for what he was trying to say.

Wong merely snorted, knowing exactly what Steven's impression of Clea was. He'd rather the New Yorker not vocalize his rude opinions aloud.

"Clea is a free spirit. She comes and goes as she pleases. The last time she picked up and left was nearly a year ago, before Kaecilius's betrayal."

"Was there a reason for her leaving?" Asked Stephen.

"There was some tension between her and the Ancient One near the end. But Clea is a private person, she never shared much about herself to anyone. I doubt she would do so now." Explained Wong.

Stephen furrowed his brow in thought. He couldn't understand why he was never told about Clea. She seemed like an important figure, being the last descendant of the Ancient One. Still, Wong said they had not expected her to ever return to Kamar-Taj, which begged the question: what happened that caused her to leave? These new mysteries once again reminded him how much he still had to learn. One thing was for certain, though, he owed her an apology.

 **AN:** Hello everyone! I just started reading a ton of Doctor Strange comics and I absolutely love them. I really wanted to make a story that was within the MCU but also involved his wife in the comics, Clea. I suppose this is sort of a Doctor Strange sequel (before Infinity Stone). Hope you all like my take!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Clea lay awake in her bed, unable to sleep. Her breathing was thin, constricted, causing a sheen of sweat to build up due to the strain. Her mother was dead. The one person who she was certain would always be there- the only one that might have been able to help her- was now gone. Her chest constricted in mounting panic and before it could become too much, she violently kicked off her sheets and stood up. Once her bare feet hit the stone floor, she began walking.

Clea headed straight out her bedroom door and moved silently through the halls towards her destination, the main pavilion. The light of the moon had cast white, cold, beams through the stone walkways of Kamar-Taj. Entering the pavilion, she felt an aura of reverence wash over her. The beautiful carved wood ceiling and intricate stone pillars made a dignified home for the relics stored there. They could find no better place under the Sorcerer Supreme's protection. However, the Sorcerer Supreme was gone, her ashes becoming another one of the many sacred items found under this roof.

Clea approached the urn containing her mother's ashes. It was displayed in a place of honor at the back of the pavilion. She stood before it for a moment before heading to the wall to the left of the urn's pedestal.

Kneeling down, she carefully felt around in the dim firelight for what she was looking for. Once her fingers grazed the right place, she pulled a loose block of stone from the wall revealing a hidden compartment. Within were simple treasures she had collected as a child, things she stored away for safe keeping.

Gathering them up, she headed back to the urn and carefully placed them on the pedestal one at a time- a pressed lotus blossom, a wooden tiger, an amber prayer bead, a hand-carved puzzle box. These were all things imbued with simple magics her mother gave her to practice with in the days before her apprenticeship. Once she was done, she knelt before her mother's ashes and shut her eyes.

"Please... by the power of the Vishanti..." Clea breathed, pressing her pointer fingers and pinkies together creating a diamond with her hands. "Help me."

Clea went into a deep meditation to try and reach out to her mother's spirit. Her soul stretched out through the darkness desperately searching for any sign of her presence. The longer she strained herself, the quicker and more ragged Clea's breaths grew. Sweat beaded at her brow as she fiercely searched the multiverse. Finally, her eyes snapped open as she gasped out in fear and despair- gripped by choking anxiety. Her concentration was broken and her spirit had rooted itself in her body once more.

Clea sat there in the dimness, shaking. The mandala tattoo on her arm tightened, wringing out even more pain- as if to add salt to her wounds. There was no revelation, no spiritual connection from beyond the veil, just silence and loneliness echoing through the multiverse. Her mother was truly gone and could no longer help her. Clea slumped over, buried her head in her hands, and began to weep. She never felt more alone.

When Clea woke up the next day, she found herself on the stone floor in the pavilion. The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was dimly glowing in anticipation of daybreak. She pulled her white-blonde hair back and wiped the makeup from under her eyes.

She walked through the halls of Kamar-Taj once again, carefully and quietly, wishing to avoid as many eyes as possible. There were certain people who would greet her with open arms and others who would look at her in judgment. This was how it always was, but in light of recent events, she was sure those feelings had been magnified. If she was being honest with herself, she really didn't feel ready to face anyone at the moment.

Slinking through the kitchen, she grabbed a few pieces of fruit and headed out to eat in the courtyard. The sun was almost up and the training area was empty save for one lone meditator.

Stephen Strange sat in a lotus pose at the edge of the hillside on a flat stone dais, the Cloak of Levitation floating gracefully beside him. His back was towards her and Clea froze on the stairs, hoping he hadn't heard her coming. She thought of turning back but just as she moved to do so, Stephen spoke.

"Don't leave on my account."

His sonorous voice sent a warm shiver down her spine. Clea let out the breath she was holding and descended the stairs. Steven turned around to see who was up so early and found Clea looking back at him. He could see the red ringing her eyes indicating that she'd probably spent the whole night crying. Again, he felt a stab of guilt for how rude he was the day before.

Clea bowed to him in a polite greeting, "Good morning, Master Strange."

Stephen stood up and bowed back to her before swiftly crossing the training ground to meet her. The Cloak followed after him, wrapping around his shoulders.

"Master Clea, I wanted to apologize for yesterday," he told her. "I had no idea who you were. I should have been more tactful."

Clea saw earnestness in his blue eyes and felt her trepidation ease up.

"You couldn't have known," she said.

Stephen realized she was letting him off the hook, but he felt that an apology just wasn't enough.

"I still feel terrible. Your mother was very important to me. Is there anything I can do?"

Clea thought on his offer a moment. She had searched his name on Google the night before and what she read seemed to contrast greatly with the man she was talking to now.

It was tricky to judge, but there were too many questions that begged answers. She could not afford to move forward blindly, or alone. It seemed that her mother trusted Stephen Strange enough to train him- even the great Vishanti and the power of Agamotto answered his calls. Perhaps she could trust him. She would take him to her sacred place and see how forthcoming he'd be.

"There is one thing you can do," she told him. "Meet me at the front gate tomorrow at 5 am. Be dressed to run."

"You want me to go running with you?" He asked, somewhat skeptical.

"Yeah," she nodded, offering him a small grin. Right then, he saw a flash of the Ancient One in her. "There's something I want to show you."

Stephen thought it was odd, but agreed to it anyway. It was a small price to pay in order to smooth things over with her and he figured there must be a reason why she was asking him to do this.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, bowing.

Clea did the same, before leaving him to finish his meditation.

AN: Woohoo! Another chapter down. Hope you liked it. We're just getting a glimpse of why Clea returned to Kamar-Taj.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, Stephen showed up outside the gates of Kamar-Taj in a pair of black sparring pants and blue gee. He saw Clea stretching on the side of the road. Unlike him, she had on a modern pair of yoga pants and purple tank top.

Clea looked over at him from her Warrior One position and grinned, amused by the choice of his workout clothes. She found his devotion to his new way of life charming.

"You said dress to run... Is this not okay?" He asked, motioning to his attire.

"No, no, it's just very traditional for an American." she said, hoping she hadn't insulted him. In fact, she thought the former doctor was very handsome. "It suits you well."

Stephen smirked, "It didn't use to, trust me."

"Magic doesn't come easy for most of us," said Clea, gracefully transitioning into another pose. "It's not really an art form well-suited for people in the modern age."

"No surprise there." Stephen muttered.

Clea laughed, "I'm guessing you were a skeptic?"

"The worst." Stephen snorted, remembering what a jerk he'd been when he first came to Kamar-Taj.

"Well I'm glad you came around because I can't really picture you in scrubs," she said, walking over to him.

"So, where are we going?" Stephen asked.

"It wouldn't be any fun if I told you." She said, a coy grin spreading across her face. "Are you ready?"

"Lead the way." He said, gesturing to the road in front of them.

Stephen had walked through Kathmandu when he first went looking for Kamar-Taj. He hadn't seen the appeal of any of it; not-to-mention he got jumped just for turning down the wrong alley. But as they meandered through the streets, he saw the shopkeepers and their families setting up for the morning market rush and the holy men walking out to their shrines to light incense and lay out their offerings. There was a distinct pulse and rhythm to the city that Stephen found fascinating- even calming. Everyone had a routine and a role they devoted themselves to. Though he had been privileged to see many realms, realities, and universes, his own still remained favorite. Earth was so varied and intricate and always surprising. This morning, Clea reminded him of that.

Leaving the city, Clea led him up a barely visible trail into a densely forested hillside. Before Stephen could ask where they were going, Clea slowed to a steady walk. It took a moment for him to realize it but they were now on an old stone path. They soon came upon an abandoned temple, overtaken by the forest.

The green foliage and mossy ruins were covered in a layer of dew from the growing humidity. It would only increase as the day went on. Walking over the sacred rubble, Clea and Stephen made their way into the remains of the main shrine, which was just a floor and three crumbled archways. Stephen admired the ancient carvings on the broken pillars that lined the walkway. This place was full of spiritual energy imbued by the mystics who occupied this place long before its abandonment. Clea sat beneath the archway that overlooked the city. Stephen soon joined her.

They sat in silence, taking in the serenity of the view. The sun had risen above the horizon, casting a warm golden light over the city. Clea wiped the glistening sheen of sweat from her forehead with her sleeve before producing water from her small backpack and handing it to Stephen who seemed transfixed by the beautiful scenery.

Noticing her offering, he thanked her before taking a long drink and handing it back. When their fingers grazed one another's, both felt a sharp energy transference pass between them- like a harsh slap or bolt of electricity. Both quickly pulled back in a knee-jerk reaction. To Stephen's surprise, Clea's mandala chain tattoo glowed a faint purple before returning to normal. She felt it constrict around her wrist threateningly, like the grip of a firm hand. Frustrated by its reaction, she gave her arm an admonishing shake. It never had such a strong reaction to someone before. She wondered what it could mean.

"Sorry," Clea apologized, embarrassed. "Sometimes it can be temperamental."

"What is it? If you don't mind my asking." Stephen had never seen magic like that before. The fact that it was clearly hurting her disturbed him.

"A bond," Clea answered. "It's a promise I made linking me to another. The tattoo acts like a contract. It can be a pain sometimes."

Stephen wanted to ask more but could tell Clea seemed resistant to tell him as much as she did. He did not want to press her for more answers. Instead, he made a mental note to do some research on his own.

"I'd be appreciative if you could keep this knowledge to yourself for now." She told him.

Stephen nodded. "Of course."

Clea had learned from past experience to always be cautious with whom she put her trust in. But there was something about Stephen Strange, an ease she felt in his presence, that she was drawn to.

"When I lived in Kamar-Taj, I used to run through the city almost every morning. I'd always stop here to watch the sunrise before heading back." She told him.

"It's beautiful." Said Stephen.

"No one would ever go with me. Mordo and Kaecilius never wanted to. They thought it was a waste of time. You're the first person I've been able to share this with."

A soft grin tugged at Stephen's lips as he turned his gaze from the now-bustling city to her. He thought she looked almost ethereal bathed in warm sunlight. "I'm glad you did. Thank you."

Clea adjusted her place in the archways so she was facing him, her back resting against the mossy pillar.

"I thought this would be a good time to ask you about my mother. About how she died."

Stephen nodded, realizing it was probably easier for her to talk about it in this private place of hers. The fact that she was inviting him here was a big leap of faith on her part. In a way, he felt honored.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning," he told her. "Before I came to Kamar-Taj, Kaecilius discovered how your mother had achieved eternal life."

"She drew power from the Dark Dimension," Clea finished for him.

Stephen's brow perked up in surprise. "So you knew?"

Clea nodded, keeping her gaze steady on the horizon. "I figured it out long before Kaecilius. It was one of the things she and I would always fight about."

Stephen couldn't imagine the Ancient One actually fighting with anyone. He figured their arguments must have been very one-sided. He could only imagine being the daughter of the Ancient One must have been incredibly frustrating for her.

"Kaecilius felt it was a betrayal," Clea went on. "He couldn't understand why I never told him."

"He thought she was keeping the secret of immortality for herself." Said Stephen. "It caused him and his disciples to break from Kamar-Taj and steal the incantation that would summon Dormammu."

Clea remembered how, when she and Kaecilius were alone, he would spiral into a rage- arguing how her mother could have protected his family from the men who killed them, how she could save her daughter from ever having to know age or death, if only she had decided to open the world to the Dark Dimension.

He would not listen to reason and she had tried so hard to lead him back to the light. It was only a matter of time he turned on her mother and Kamar-Taj. Perhaps if she hadn't of left, the Ancient One would still be alive.

"You were with my mother at the end?" She asked Stephen, her voice hitching slightly.

Stephen looked into her eyes. They were vulnerable but wise beyond her years. He couldn't imagine the kind of life she had led, what she had seen growing up. He wished he could understand her better.

"Yes. I was with her," Said Stephen, finally.

"How did she die?" She asked.

Blunt-force trauma to the parietal and occipital lobes he thought automatically before cringing at how awful that sounded. What could he possibly say to her?

"Please," She asked, sensing his hesitation.

Stephen's heart constricted in his chest, realizing there was nothing he could do but tell her the truth.

"Kaecilius and his disciples had attacked the New York Sanctum. We were losing badly and your mother came to defend us. Kaecilius found an opening in her defense and threw her out of the Mirror Dimension. She fell five stories, there was nothing the doctors could do."

Not even I could have saved her, Stephen thought somewhat selfishly. It wasn't fair to say- it was something the old Stephen Strange would have thought. So he kept it to himself.

"I was able to talk to her in her astral form while she was in the OR. She told me she'd seen it coming, that every possible future led her to that single outcome. In her last moments, we watched the snow fall, and then she slipped away."

Clea saw the deep sadness in Stephen's eyes and knew this was incredibly hard for him to tell her. She had read about the car accident and his hands- his whole life, up until his disappearance, was laid bare on the Internet. The Ancient One taught him the ways of the mystic arts and helped him see his life still had meaning. Clea could tell she meant a lot to him.

"I'm sorry," she told him, wiping a few errant tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry too."

Clea reached out to him then. She hesitated before finally placing her hand on his shoulder. Her bond slowly constricted around her arm but she fought through the pain. It was worth it to comfort him. When she pulled away, they sat in reflective silence until the sun was fully raised in the sky.

"Master Strange?" Said Clea, finally summoning up the courage to ask the one question she dreaded most. "What happened to Kaecilius?"

"He and the rest of his disciples were taken to the Dark Dimension by Dormammu." Explained Stephen.

Clea turned away from him, feeling as if she were going to be sick.

"So he will live forever?" She asked.

"He will, but at a price." Stephen said, feeling this would be some sort of consolation to her. Little did he know, Kaecilius's punishment mattered very little to her at this moment.

"Yes. All magic has a price." She said, quietly.

She had rung up quite a tab herself over the years. It seemed she was paying for it now, and would be forever now that Kaecilius was gone. Mordo would have been furious with her if he were still around.

"We should head back." Said Clea, standing up and removing her sling ring from her backpack.

Stephen knew something was wrong, but felt it wasn't his place to ask. She opened a portal back to Kamar-Taj and the two sorcerers leapt through into the library.

AN: Another update! Yaaaay! If you're into my story please review, favor and follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A golden ring of sparks began to form inside the library of Kamar-Taj creating a portal from which Stephen and Clea stepped out of.

"Good thing Wong isn't here. We're not supposed to open portals in the library. New rule," Stephen warned her.

"Hello pot, I'm glad to see you've met kettle," Wong's disapproving voice rang out from behind them.

Clea looked at Stephen with an amused smirk. "Oh really?"

"Don't look at me. I wasn't the reason why the rule was made," he said, defending himself.

"Yes, but you break it every chance you get." Said Wong, walking up and grabbing a stack of books off his desk to put away.

The tinge of red that had spread across Stephen's cheeks only made Clea's smile grow. Embarrassment was cute on him, she thought before shaking her head as she headed for the door. Stephen followed behind her.

"At least give her a chance to get to know me," he muttered to Wong under his breath as he passed by.

"Yeah, because that's such a good idea." Wong replied, rolling his eyes.

Out in the hall Stephen saw Yang, an apprentice, approach Clea from the garden, cutting off her path. The young man's eyes were narrowed, his mouth set in a firm line. It was clear he had been waiting for this moment.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming back here," growled Yang before turning his gaze to Stephen. "She's a traitor. An acolyte of Kaecilius! She doesn't belong here."

"Now wait a minute-" Stephen said, surprised by his reaction.

Not listening, Yang produced a golden spell wheel in his hand and readied himself to fight. Other students in the garden rushed over to watch, some of them frightened, others curious.

"He's right, Stephen," said Clea, holding out her hand to stay him. "I don't belong here. But I want to make one thing very clear- no one has more cause to hate Kaecilius than me. So put that hand down, Yang, or I will do it for you."

The young man grit his teeth, his hand beginning to shake with anger. He knew there was no way he could defeat the daughter of the Ancient One. Finally his will faltered and he slowly lowered his arm. The gold disk disappeared with a few sparks.

"You don't have to worry, I'm leaving now anyway." Clea said as she passed Yang and stormed down the hall. Stephen glanced at the young man in utter confusion before quickly following after her.

"Clea!" He called, jogging to catch up but her pace was relentless.

Reaching out, he placed his hand on her bare shoulder to stop her but was harshly stung by her magic bond. They both let out a cry and she turned around to face him, her eyes alight with anger.

"Clea, you don't have to leave." He told her. "Kamar-Taj is your home."

"Not anymore. It hasn't been for a long time now." She said, rounding the corner into a separate hallway. Stephen followed her determinedly.

"You came back for a reason," he said.

"Yes, and my mother is dead. So there's nothing keeping me here any longer," she told him, turning back around and heading for her room so she could grab her bag. Her heart was now pounding in her chest. She couldn't be in this place anymore, it was a terrible idea to have come back.

Stephen reached out on instinct to stop her again but before he could touch her, Clea whipped around and pointed a warning finger at him. She did not want to get zapped again.

"Sorry," He apologized, holding up his hands. "But what about your legacy? We have no Sorcerer Supreme and the London Sanctum is completely destroyed. Think of all the good you could do here."

"The good? I'm sorry, but did you miss what just happened back there?" She argued, finding the idea completely ridiculous. "Haven't you wondered why you've never heard of me until now? I am an embarrassment to them. I left Kamar-Taj for a reason, and trust me, it is better off without me."

Clea knew Stephen was only trying to help, but for his sake she had to push him away. He wasn't buying it, though.

"Look, I don't know what happened in your past or even what you're going through now. For one thing, your glow-y tattoo seems like a real pain in the ass. But running away won't make it any better." Stephen told her, stepping in close before asking one final time, "Please, stay."

Clea opened her mouth to retort, but was at a loss for words. "Master Strange, I..."

"Master Strange!" Wong called from down the hall. The keeper of the library came running up to the two of them, his expression grave. "An acolyte has just reported trouble in New York. You must return to the Sanctum immediately."

Clea and Stephen looked at one another, concern registering on both their faces before following Wong. Their conversation was going to have to be put on hold. The three mystics hurried to the gateway that led to the New York Sanctum.

Stephen should have known something would go wrong while he was away. The multiverse didn't rest for anyone. He was so distracted by Clea's sudden arrival, he'd neglected to check in with the mystics roaming New York.

"What did the acolyte tell you?" Stephen asked Wong. With a wave of his hand, his clothes transformed into his blue master's robes. The Cloak of Levitation flew through the doorway in moments, coming to rest on his shoulders.

"He said there is a little girl in Queens who's nightmares have been crossing over into reality. The apartment building she and her mother live in is now infested with ethereal monsters." Wong explained as the entered the chamber that housed the gateways.

"Dream creatures making their way into reality?" Clea questioned. Something about that type of dimensional tear seemed odd to her. "What could have caused a breach like this?"

"That's exactly what we have to find out," said Stephen, taking the Eye of Agamotto from its pedestal and draping it around his neck.

"Good luck." Said Wong as he began to head out of the chamber.

"No, no, no, wait," Clea immediately objected, realizing what was happening. "You're taking Wong with you, not me. This is a you and him thing, not a you and me thing."

Stephen grinned with satisfaction as he opened the gateway to the Sanctum Sanctorum. "Oh it's definitely a you and me thing. It has to be. Right Wong?"

Wong sighed, turning around. "Unfortunately, yes. As much as I believe this is going to be a disaster, I need to stay here and guard Kamar-Taj."

"What!" She cried, not believing that she was being rooked into going on this mission.

"Are you coming, Clea?" Asked Stephen, teasingly, as he stepped through the portal.

The silver-blonde mystic groaned in frustration and spun around in a circle, her fists tightly clenched. She couldn't in all good-conscience run away knowing a little girl was out there suffering. As a master of the mystic arts, she had a moral duty to uphold. Stephen got her. Letting out a heavy sigh, she stomped into the portal after him.

"Wipe that smug grin off your face," she told Stephen.

His smile only grew wider.

As they entered the main foyer of the Sanctum Sanctorum, Clea snapped her fingers and her yoga outfit was replaced by a set of purple sorcerers robes. Straightening her collar, her eyes set into a look of determination. She was a protector of the Natural Law once more.

Despite Stephen's best efforts not to stare, he couldn't help himself. She was already beautiful, but seeing her in her element, made her appear all the more stunning.

"What? Are these not okay?" She asked, noticing him looking at her. A tinge of pink spread across her cheeks as she folded her arms in front of her chest. She had not worn her robes for some years and she knew the set she had on was practically ancient.

Stephen shook his head, a clever grin forming at his lips.

"No, it's just... they suit you." He said, remembering how she had said the same about him that morning.

Was he flirting with her, Clea wondered? Even though she knew that was a very bad idea, she secretly hoped he was. Nervously tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, she headed for the relics room.

"I just need to grab something before we go," she said.

She went up and down the rows of glass cases, searching for what she wanted. Stephen watched from the top of the stairs as she knelt down in front of a display in the back of the room. She reached up, unlatched the glass door, and opened it. Her fingers grazed reverently over a gilded cylinder before picking it up and standing. Closing the door, she turned and held out the relic in front of her. The small cylinder magically extended into a six foot staff. Taking in a focused breath, Clea spun the staff around her in tight circles, flourishing her weapon with perfect expertise.

"Is that your relic?" Asked Stephen.

She nodded, closing the staff and hanging it off a loop on her belt. "One of the first I mastered," she said, proudly. "It responds to me as it it were a part of me, just like your cloak does for you. It's been a long time since I last held it."

Stephen never given that particular relic much thought before, but clearly it meant a lot to her. He was glad to see she had found her way back to it.

"Alright, let's get our bearing," said Stephen.

Approaching the Orb of Sight, another one of Agamotto's creations, he placed his hand atop it and searched for the girl Wong told them about. The orb sifted through one magical anomaly after the other before finding the right location. Stephen slipped on his sling ring, and began to visualize the place the orb showed him. Creating a portal, the two sorcerers jumped through, landing in the middle of Queens.

AN: Hello everyone! Please review, favor, and follow. We're finally getting into the action!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The two sorcerers walked down the sidewalk towards the apartment building Stephen saw in the orb. People on the street gave them curious looks as they passed by which, for New York, was a big deal. Down the way, there was a middle-aged man dressed in a Brioni suit who was looking at them very intently, his eyes were drawn to Stephen in particular.

"Oh great," the mystic, muttered beneath his breath as he realized just who this was. Before Clea could ask what was wrong, the man approached them.

"Oh my god, Stephen, is that you?" He asked in a heavy French accent, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Guillaume, how are you?" He asked, forcing a polite smile as he tried his best to be cordial to the surgeon who had refused to help him just so he could maintain his high success rate.

"Wonderful, thank you. I'm in New York for a conference," said Guillaume. "No one's going to believe I ran into you."

Clea noticed Stephen's shoulders stiffen. The uncomfortable tension between the two men, on Stephen's end anyway, was palpable. This man must have been a former acquaintance of his.

"Fantastic," said Stephen, through thinly veiled sarcasm. The man before them seemed not to have noticed. "Clea, this is Doctor Guillaume Faure. Guillaume, this is my partner, Clea."

"Actually, we're just friends," Clea corrected, giving Stephen a pointed look as she extended her hand to Guillaume.

"Who work together," Stephen added smartly, eliciting another look from her.

"Sounds complicated," said Guillaume.

"Um, a little," said Stephen.

"No, not really," said Clea, answering at the same time, making the moment even more awkward.

"Well, either way, it is a pleasure." The French surgeon smiled as he took her hand in his and turned it over to plant a kiss on it.

Clea inwardly cringed. So did Stephen. One thing that caught his attention, however, was that her bond had not hurt Guillaume. Come to think of it, she had also hugged Wong without affecting him either. It made him wonder why he was the exception.

"She looks like a princess. She's not is she?" Guillaume asked Stephen, both flattering and ignoring her at the same time. Clea was really starting not to like this man.

"No, just the daughter of a three thousand year old Celtic mystic," She told him, answering the question herself.

Stephen laughed at her boldness. Guillaume just took it as a weird joke and forced a smile.

"Yes, that must be it," he said uncomfortably before turning back to Stephen. "How are you doing these days? Looks like you found something a bit more interesting than the OR. New religion or spiritual group?" He asked, the note of judgement in his tone was easy to pick out as he looked Stephen up and down.

Clea grit her teeth wanting to tell him off, but kept her mouth shut. It wasn't like she could tell the truth.

"Uh yeah, something like that," said Stephen.

Before tensions could come to a head, there was a sudden quaking that rippled beneath their feet, causing all three of them to be thrown off balance. There was a pause and then suddenly the door two buildings down from where they were standing suddenly exploded out into the street. It hit several cars passing by, causing a nasty pileup.

"Sorry to interrupt what was probably going to be an amazing Mean Girls moment, but we're very late," Clea said, grabbing Stephen's sleeve and pulling him down the sidewalk with her.

The two sorcerers pushed passed the people escaping the explosion. Stephen slipped on his sling ring and began making a portal in front of them.

"Clea, I have an entrance!" He shouted among the ensuing chaos.

Clea took her magical staff from her belt and extended it before running inside the ring of sparks. Stephen followed immediately behind her. Once the two were inside, the portal closed with a final wink of magic. Guillaume slowly backed up, his mouth agape in both wonder and horror, before running to safety.

Inside the apartment building, Stephen and Clea ran from the laundry room into the lobby which looked as if a bomb had hit it. The front entrance was completely blown out and the walls were scorched. Burnt letters from a bank of destroyed mailboxes lay scattered across the floor among the concrete ruble.

There was a familiar metallic smell in the air mingling with the dust and smoke, a scent very familiar to all mystics. The building was heavily laden with black magic residue. Something very powerful had created this explosion.

The two sorcerers exchanged glances as they cautiously made their way to the stairs which spiraled around the walls like a large stone snake.

"What could have done this?" Clea murmured, running her hand along the broken marble bannister. As her fingers grazed over it, the cracks began oozing a glowing dark emerald green substance. She immediately pulled away, grossed out. "Maybe don't touch anything."

Stephen nodded, looking at the otherworldly plasma. It was clear that something had torn through to their reality. "We have to get to the girl quickly."

They hurried up the stairs, stepping over broken bits of ceiling and jumping across gaps from where the floor had crumbled. Coming to a particularly wide gap where the stairs were missing, Stephen looked to Clea, worried that she could not make such a long jump. He had his Cloak but he couldn't touch her to pick her up, so floating across with her was not an option. That bond of hers really was a pain in the ass, Stephen thought.

"Here, I'll give you the Cloak of Levitation," he told her, the red garment then rose from his shoulders as if on cue.

"Thank you, but I've got this," said Clea, a confident grin tugging at her lips.

The Cloak's collar stiffened as if to express insult and Stephen cocked his head to the side, about to say something to counter her but Clea was already on the move.

She closed her staff and clasped it securely to her belt. Taking a few steps back, she performed a running jump off the landing, kicked off the wall next to her, and grabbed the stairway on the other side of the gap. Pulling herself up, she looked at Stephen, who gracefully levitated across. She regarded him with an incredibly smug expression.

"I would call you a show-off, but I'm too impressed right now," he told her, hardly believing what he just saw. She must have practiced with Mordo… hell, she probably taught him. Whatever the case, he loved it.

Suddenly, they heard a woman's scream ring out from the 5th floor and it spurred them on into an all out sprint. Finding the correct apartment, they saw that the front door had been knocked off the hinges. Entering inside, they found a middle aged woman huddled in the corner next to the radiator, her shaking hands covering her mouth. She looked up at them with wide eyes. Too scared to speak, the dark haired woman pointed down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Stephen nodded in understanding and followed to where she was pointing. He could only assume she was the mother of the girl needing their help.

"Stephen," Clea said, motioning to the green plasma around the walls and floor of the hallway. "Look."

As they stepped across the floor, the plasma began to glow beneath their feet. Entering the girl's bedroom, they found giant holes had been torn into the walls. Band posters and photo collages floated outside the holes which lead into another dimension. The familiar objects were barely visible in the dark, viscous, atmosphere. The jagged black terrain of the foreign dimension was set by a background of sea green sky. The sight was surreal. The girl herself was laying in her bed asleep, as if nothing were wrong. She looked to be in her early teens.

"By the Vishanti," Clea breathed, having never seen such a violent tear between realities before.

"It's a full dimensional breach," said Stephen, in awe of the sight himself. This was truly worrisome. "We have to close the portal before whatever's on the other side of these walls gets out."

Clea nodded and then waved her hands in an intricate set of circular motions as she enclosed the room in the Mirror Dimension.

"This will keep anything from escaping into the real world for now." She said, knowing it was their only available safety measure.

"Good." Stephen headed to the girl's bedside and checked her vitals. His expression of concentration soon turned to one of serious concern. "Her heartbeat is incredibly slow. Her system is shutting down, not to mention her Astral Form is no where in this room."

"She can't be revived without it. We can't close the dimensional breach until she is. Otherwise, her Astral Form will be stuck between worlds," said Clea.

It seemed they had their work cut out for them. Stephen thought for a moment, looking from the sleeping girl to the threatening world looming outside the room.

"Can you hold things down here? I'm going to try to reach out to her Astral Form and return it to her body," said Stephen, walking over to the wooden chest at front of the girl's bed and sitting on it in lotus position.

"It shouldn't be a problem," said Clea, reaching for her staff and extending it. Once Stephen's soul was in the Astral Dimension, she would be in charge of protecting both his and the girl's physical bodies.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He told her, worried about what might happen if he left her without backup for too long. They didn't have many options available to them and this one put Clea at the most risk. It was a tough call, but he had to trust she could handle herself.

"Be quick," she told him, betraying a bit of nervousness.

"I will." He assured her before closing his eyes.

"And be careful," she added.

"Concerned for your partner?" He asked smugly, his eyes still closed but a grin curling at his lips.

"You are not my..." her protest was then cut short by Stephen's sudden departure into the Astral Dimension. "Damn it!"

Clea knew that was his infuriating way of getting the last word, and he was loving it. She was not going to let him rope her into staying. She was going to have the final word on that once all this was over.

Only a few moments after he left, she could hear slithering noises from outside the bedroom walls. Unintelligible whispers filled the room as the mysterious world outside dimmed. Clea could feel her heart slowly climb up into her throat.

"This is not good." She said, preparing herself for whatever was about to come through those walls.

AN: Things are heating UP! I've got a good trajectory for this story and I wonder, with all the clues up till now, if anyone can guess who the villain is? (Hint: They have not been featured in the MCU). I'm going to have SO much fun with this one. Hope ya'll liked it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Stephen floated through the Astral Dimension, searching for any sign of the girl. Something like this could not possibly have occurred without several major factors coming into play, he reasoned. Something must have happened to this kid in order for her mind to be used as a gateway- an emotional trauma, perhaps. Also, someone or something had to purposefully manipulated the girl in order to rip through the fabric of their dimension. This was no accident. It was all the part of a larger plan and Stephen had to stop it before it could come to fruition.

Having searched the apartment and found no trace of the girl, he floated through the front door and into the hall. He searched all the way up to the top floor where he finally came to a rusted old doorway that led to the roof. It had been cracked open a foot, indicating someone was out there.

Entering the roof, Stephen made his way between a bank of tall air conditioning units and rigged up satellites. At the other end of the rooftop, he spotted the girl. She was waif thin, tan-skinned like her mother, with long, black curly hair. She was sitting on the edge of the coping facing the street, her feet dangling over the side. He cautiously approached, trying his best not to scare her.

"Hey," he said, coming up next to her. Below them were the car pileup and the rubble in the street. The police were just getting on the scene; fire trucks and ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance.

The girl whipped around to face him, surprised to see anyone else there with her.

"W-who are you?" She asked, backing away skeptically. The girl's reaction reminded Stephen of a stray cat that didn't want to be handled.

"My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts. What's your name?"

"It's Marianna," the girl muttered, her eyes red from tears. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a long story behind all that... but the short of it is I'm going to help you get back to the physical world."

"What if I don't want to go back?" She said, obstinately, as she fought back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

Stephen's brow furrowed, as he looked down at the girl. "Why wouldn't you?"

Marianna shook her head, her angry gaze drawn down to her hands. "You can't help me. Just go away."

"Well, I am a doctor. So try me," Stephen told her before taking a seat next to her.

"Fine, it won't matter anyway," said Marianna, seeming quite certain of that fact. "I can… I can feel other people's emotions. I know what's going on inside them."

"How long have you been an empath?" Asked Stephen.

"Empath? Jeez, you really are a doctor, aren't you?" She said sarcastically.

"Rude, but continue." Stephen answered, pointedly.

The teenager hesitated a moment before speaking again. "It started when my grandpa died a year ago. Ever since the funeral my mom's been like a zombie. It's like she's not even there. A couple weeks ago we had a big fight. I said some horrible things and she slapped me. That's when it all came rushing in- her loneliness, her anger. I could feel everything. It hurt so bad, like staring into the sun."

"What did you fight about?" Stephen asked.

"Her depression. I told her she was a bad mom, that she might as well be dead too. Now she thinks I hate her."

"Is that why you're here?" He asked, slowly beginning to understand.

Marianna shook her head, her dark curls falling into her eyes. "No. I started feeling other people's emotions too. It was slow at first but the more my powers grow, the worse everything becomes. It's too much to take in. I get these blinding migraines and I can't sleep at night because I keep having horrible nightmares that keep me awake. All my classmates think I'm a freak now because one day I was so tired, I fell asleep in class and had a night terror. They said it was like I was possessed… that everything in the room went dark and I wouldn't stop screaming."

"Wait," Stephen stopped her. "Did you say the other students could see your nightmare?"

Marianna nodded, "They said it was like something was radiating out of me- like a kind of darkness. It happens at home too. No one wants to be seen with me now and my teachers just want my mom to send me to a therapist."

This was worse than Stephen thought. Obviously there was more at play here than a mutant coming into her powers. The nightmares seemed to be a separate symptom of that. Someone took advantage of her burgeoning mutant abilities and used them as the catalyst for the dimensional breach. Whoever caused it must have tried to do it before, like the episode she described in the classroom.

"I'm sorry this is happening," said Stephen. "But I think I have an idea of what's going on. For me to fix it, I have to return you to your body."

"I already told you, it's too late," Marianna snapped. "Besides, my life is already ruined. I can't go back."

"Look," sighed Stephen. He had hoped convincing the kid wasn't going to be this difficult. "You're what, twelve?"

"Fourteen," She grumbled, insulted by his mistake.

"Even crappier," Stephen snorted, recalling the hell that was his teenage years. "I know it's lonely, being the only one like you. But just because you're different doesn't mean you're alone. There are other kids out there with mutant abilities you couldn't begin to imagine. Some of them even grow up to be heroes."

"What, like the X-Men? That's all tabloid crap. They say that Bigfoot is real too."

God, this girl was a cynic, Stephen thought. He'd probably like the kid if she wasn't so stubborn.

"What about magic?" He asked, waving his hands in an intricate pattern as he traced out a golden spell in the air. Once he was finished, the spell disappeared in a shower of sparks. "Because obviously that's not real."

Marianna could not hide the wonder behind her eyes. For Stephen, It was like watching himself see magic for the first time. Finally he was making some headway.

"But what about my mom?" she asked. "She's afraid of me."

"She just doesn't know what's going on. Have you actually tried talking to her?"

The young girl paused, her eyes downcast. It was always too hard for her to try and explain. Besides, she doubted her mother would have believed her anyway. But maybe if Dr. Strange could back her up, it would be easier.

"... no." She admitted guiltily.

"That's step one. Step two, well, that's going to be a bit harder," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

Marianna cocked her head to the side, "Why, what is it?"

"I know of a school where everyone is like you. The headmaster teaches young mutants to control their powers. It wouldn't be too hard tracking them down. But I hear they're very strict on who they allow in but maybe I can pull some strings and get you accepted."

Really, what he was thinking was that he'd pull his clout as Sorcerer Supreme and get her accepted. It was a bit hard to refuse the person in charge of protecting reality.

"You would really do that?" The teenager asked, seeming hopeful.

"Of course. I'm a firm believer in getting a good education," Stephen joked.

"You're so weird," the girl muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks," said Stephen, as he smirked wryly in response.

"But even if you could do all that… I…"

Marianna's breath caught in her throat as she tried to find the words to tell him what she had done. Suddenly, she broke down into tears. Turning away from him, she hid her face in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Stephen asked, disturbed by her sudden one-eighty. Quickly heading over to her, he took her shoulders in his shaky hands and tried to get her to look at him. "Marianna, look at me."

"I'm sorry. I just... I just wanted it to be over. There was not other way out so I- I took all my sleeping pills!" She cried, completely panicked now. "I told you it was too late!"

Stephen's heart dropped into his stomach then. All the pieces fell into place as the realization hit him like a freight train. Of course that's what she'd meant before. It explained everything- the reason why the breach was able to be made this time and not when she was merely dreaming, her low heart rate and vital signs, her astral form leaving her body. It was all because she was trying to kill herself. He felt like such an idiot.

"I might be able to fix this. But we're going to have to hurry," he told her before grabbing her hand and floating over the side of the building.

They were now in a race against the clock. He only hoped things were going well on Clea's end. Little did he know, he had the easy job.

 **AN:** Give me some of that sweet FFR (Favor, Follow, and Review). Things just got serious here in Chapter 6. However, it's chapter 7 when shit really hits the fan! We'll finally meet the villain. I'm really excited! Hope you like what I've written so far.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

A giant, black, raven-like foot gripped hold of one of the holes in the bedroom wall, followed by another. The sharp talons sunk in, cracking away at the drywall, as a lion-like face with fiery eyes emerged from the dark ether. Atop this Chimera stood a humanoid figure. He was too tall and too thin to be human with an ashen face, black eyes, and wild black hair that reached his waist. His green and silver robes floated around him, as if he were submerged in water.

Stepping down the arm of the Chimera, he entered through the breach into bedroom. Once inside, the Chimera dissolved into smoke and shadows before disappearing completely.

"Who are you?" Clea demanded.

"All beings of sentience know who I am, Clea," he spoke, his voice soft but chilling. "You know me especially well. I am Nightmare."

Clea eyed him suspiciously, making sure to keep enough distance between the two of them. "Explain yourself, because I certainly don't know you."

"My dear, Clea, I am the architect of your dreams. The realm beyond this room is my kingdom where the darkest parts of the conscious and unconscious mind become the clay from which I form my world."

This man wasn't just an other-dimensional being, he was the living form of an entire conceptual dimension- i.e. Nightmare. That alone was enough to send Clea's heart leaping into her throat.

"I'm assuming you created this bridge between our worlds. For what purpose?" she said, remaining stern.

Nightmare glided further into the room, as he continued to stare down his nose at her.

"A king should not be a prisoner of his subjects. Don't you agree?" He asked. His eyes were like black, bottomless, pits boring into her soul. "It's time I broke free from the stifling confines of the subconscious and enter reality where I can shape your world in my image. In the end, Nightmare will become all and the darkest truths of humanity will be revealed."

"Charming," she muttered, trying to pretend his plan didn't shake her to her core. She could really use some backup right now, she thought, looking over at the motionless Stephen. She had assured him she would be able to handle things while he searched for the girl. Clea was going to make sure to keep her promise. "I hate to break it to you, but you're not in reality. You've merely crossed over into the Mirror Dimension. Nothing you do here can affect the outside world."

Nightmare looked around at the fractured planes of the Mirror Dimension. A hallow laugh passed his lips as he realized she wasn't lying.

"You humans are clever, the workings of your minds are so intricate that my world basically populates itself with all kinds of horrors." He mused, his thin grey lips pulling into a callous smirk that never reached his eyes. Clea felt her skin crawl at the eerie sight. "The Mirror Dimension is merely a parlor trick which can easily be broken once the caster is disposed of. You come from fine stock, Clea- not only of human ancestry, but of something far grander. Please, don't force me to kill you. Just step aside."

"I cannot do that."

The silver-haired mystic took a strong fighting stance, rooting herself to the spot. She would not yield even to harbinger of her nightmares. She had to protect Stephen, the girl, and reality itself.

"Very well," sighed Nightmare, disappointed in her predictable decision. "Though it's a shame, you will be but one of millions to fall in the coming days."

With a wave of his hand, the room sprang to life. Pictures of Marianna's friends and family reached out beyond the photo paper, their eyes blackened, fingernails grown to long claws, and teeth sharpened to razor-like points. They stepped out of their frames and ran at her, hobbling quickly on distorted legs. The small flowers printed on the wallpaper began crawling downwards, making their way towards her as they took the form of spiders. The water spots on the ceiling began leaking acid, burning holes into the floor and furniture- landing dangerously close to Stephen and Marianna.

Clea smacked the photo monster closest to her in the face with her staff before jamming the back end of it into the stomach of another that was running up behind her. Spinning the staff, she brought it down on the monster's head, cracking it's skull open and causing it to disintegrate.

Summoning up a shield spell, she cast it on the ceiling overhead, blocking the acid. The moment it was under control, she stomped her foot firmly on the ground, creating a ripple in the floor which knocked the spiders back. With a few elegant hand gestures, a fiery orange spell sword appeared in her right hand and she used it to dispatch the rest of the photo monsters. The light from the sword caused the spiders to shrink into the dark corners of the room and disappear.

"Such power," Nightmare observed. "It's always a pleasure weaving your kind's nightmares. But magic takes such a heavy toll on the mind." He turned his black gaze to Stephen then, a cold smile tugging at his thin lips. "The Sorcerer Supreme- the keeper of so many burdens. Are you curious to know what lurks in his dreams?"

Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Clea immediately placed herself between Nightmare and Stephen. She pointed her sword at him in a stern warning.

"You will not touch him," she snapped.

"So defensive," murmured Nightmare. "Must be your human half speaking."

Before Nightmare could launch another attack, Stephen suddenly sprang back to consciousness. His eyes snapped open and upon seeing the monster before him and Clea bravely using herself as a shield to protect him, he levitated off the chest he was sitting on and summoned two vibrant golden spell discs. With Nightmare distracted by Stephen, Clea launched an all-out attack on him. Her spell sword disappeared, replaced by brilliant purple volleys of magic energy which shot from her open palms.

Nightmare was knocked backwards by each blast which bore away at his flesh. Her tattoo began to glow a vibrant purple, becoming brighter the longer she continued her barrage. Instead of inflicting pain on her, the mandala chain fueled her with even greater power as she blasted her target apart. Stephen watched in shock and curiosity as the now ragged form of Nightmare was blasted out of the bedroom and back into his realm. He had never seen an acolyte of the Anchient One use such destructive magic before.

Once Clea stopped firing, she shook her hands. The purple light vanished from her tattoo, like the last embers in a dying fire. She knew her attack was not enough to kill him but it would be a while before he recovered. At least she bought them some time.

"Clea!" Yelled Stephen as he scooped Marianna up in his arms. "Come with me, we have to hurry. She doesn't have much time."

"What's wrong?" She asked, breathless from her last attack.

"The girl- she overdosed on sleeping pills. We have to induce vomiting right away."

Clea followed Stephen as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen.

"So, what's the story with Slenderman?" Stephen asked as he lay Marianna down on the kitchen table and then turned on the sink faucet.

"He is the living embodiment of the realm of Nightmare. Coincidentally, that's also what he calls himself." She informed him.

"Nightmare?" He asked, tearing through the cupboards, looking for the things he needed, while he waited for the water to heat up. Time was of the essence.

"Yes," Clea affirmed.

"Very creative," muttered Stephen sarcastically as he slammed a mixing bowl along with a box of salt, a bottle of mustard, and a bottle of vinegar onto the counter. "Can you find me a turkey baster?"

Clea nodded, quickly getting to work while Stephen began adding the ingredients to the bowl. Getting a mixture of equal parts he then added the warm water and stirred up the vomit-inducing cocktail.

"I believe it's safe to say the situation has reached the level of worst case scenario. He's the architect of an entire dimension... not to mention, he has full access to our subconscious when we sleep," explained Clea, whipping out a turkey baster from one of the drawers and handing it to the former doctor. "He knows things about us that we would never tell anyone."

Stephen hardly had time to take all this in as he brought the bowl to the table. Just then, more photo monsters appeared in the kitchen doorway and Clea blasted them back until they were merely dust.

Nightmare was already regenerating. It wouldn't be long until he was back in full force.

"You're going to have to prop her up so her airway is fully open," said Stephen. Hoisting Marianna up to a sitting position, he had Clea stand at the edge of the table behind her.

Stephen then sucked up a good amount of the cocktail using the turkey baster. Holding it poised above Marianna's mouth he looked over to Clea. He knew what he was about to say next was not going to go over well with her. "In order for this to work, I need you to bring us out of the Mirror Dimension."

Clea stiffened, her eyes widening in shock. He had to know what he was asking, she thought. Had he gone mad?

"But the breach- that thing could brake through to our world!" She argued.

"I know," he told her, his piercing eyes connecting with hers. She could see that his certainty was unwavering. "But we have to help her."

Clea did not have time to think, she only knew what her heart told her. It begged her to trust him, to save the girl.

"Alright," she agreed. "Just realize I don't know how to kill a concept, Stephen."

"Noted," he muttered.

The vicious scratching of Nightmare's monsters could be heard from the other room. It sounded as if their forces were multiplying. They were coming for them. Closing the Mirror Dimension would be like opening the gates of Hell and unleashing its demons on Earth.

"One."

Clea could barely feel Marianna's heartbeat as she held tightly to her, keeping her upright. The mystic's heart, however, was working double-time.

"Two."

Stephen's brow furrowed in complete concentration, his shaking hands becoming worse and worse as he pulled Marianna's mouth open and fed the turkey baster down her throat. This was his first attempt at any sort of medical procedure since the accident. He was silently cursing his clumsiness the whole time.

"Three."

Clea broke them out of the Mirror Dimension sending them back into reality. Once the fractured walls of their isolated world were gone, Stephen depressed the pump on the baster, squeezing out every last drop of the cocktail before quickly pulling the kitchen utensil out of the girl's throat.

Marianna remained limp in Clea's arms, her heartbeat too faint to feel. The silver-haired mystic looked up at Stephen in concern.

"Stephen…" she breathed, her hold tightening on the Marianna in a vein attempt to comfort the dying girl.

Nightmarish ghouls tore through the living room as Marianna's mother could be heard screaming at the top of her lungs. Clea was prepared to drop the girl and fight them off until suddenly Marianna lurched forwards in her arms and threw her head over the side of the table to vomit.

"Oh, gross," Clea murmured, watching as Marianna emptied her stomach onto the floor.

"Alright, she's awake! We can close the portal now," said Stephen.

The two sorcerers ran out of the kitchen and began bombarding the monsters in the living room with spells, incinerating each one as they made their way back to the portal.

"Quickly!" Clea cried as they leapt not the bedroom.

Just as Stephen raised his hands to seal the portal shut, the two sorcerers were knocked back by a burst of black energy shooting straight out of the portal. It was too late, Nightmare had broken through. Throwing his hand out, Stephen created a spell shield to protect them from the impact of the blast. The dark magic cracked away the protective barrier bit by bit until there was nothing left. Clea and Stephen were both thrown backwards into the wall of the bedroom as the tail end of the energy surge shot from the Nightmare realm. Once the barrage was over, the portal closed shut.

"Stephen…" Clea breathed as she pulled herself to her knees. "What have we done?"

The Sorcerer Supreme stood silent, looking at the spot where the portal had been. They had gambled and lost, unleashing Nightmare onto the world. He had to fix this.

"Stephen?"

He had to.

AN: I know it's been a while. Endgame (and it's lack of Stephen) got my writer's brain fired up again. Hope you guys are still out there and along for the ride! Now we have a villain! Woooo. Cookies to all who guessed Nightmare. I hope they do use him in the MCU, I think there's a lot of potential there both with storytelling and visual appeal. Tell me what you think :) I'm trying to hone my narrative structure and pacing. I tend to let my stories get bloated with subplots and flashbacks so hopefully I'm doing better about getting to the point.


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